Self Conclusions, My Dear
by MellodraMattic
Summary: Matt meets Mello. Yadda yadda yadda. It's all in diary entries wooooooo.


Monday 16th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Today, I saw the most beautiful boy I'd ever laid eyes on. In the sweet shop. He was working there, behind the counter in the chocolate department. His name tag said he was called Matt, and he smiled at me when he gave me my bag. I hope he's there tomorrow.

Mello.

Monday 16th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Today I saw the most beautiful boy I'd ever laid eyes on. At work. He came up and bought a bag of raspberry centre chocolates. He smiled at me when he took the bag. I hope he comes again tomorrow.

Matt.

Tuesdayday 17th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

I went to the sweet shop again, and he was there, behind the chocolate counter. I found a little surprise in my caramels. His phone number. No wonder he'd looked so guiltily happy when he gave me the bag. I'm going to call him now, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Mello.

Tuesday 17th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

He came again. This time, he got caramels. Yum. But I gave him my number as well. Hid it in the bag. God, I must have looked sheepish when I handed it to him. I hope he calls me. If he does, I'll tell you about it tomorrow…if he doesn't, I'll ask to be reassigned to the cake department. It'd be too embarrassing seeing him again.

Matt.

Wednesday 18th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

I called him. We've arranged a date. Tomorrow at 6, at the coffee place. I can't wait! I've got to get an outfit! And my motorcycle wheel is punctured! Oh, dear, I have a lot of getting ready to do…I'll tell you all about the date tomorrow.

Mello.

Wednesday 18th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

He called me. We talked. We arranged a date! Oh, I can't wait! I need to redo my hair, though, bits of the blond are showing through the red dye. I do not look good with blond. He does though. Mello. That's his name. He looks like a bloody sun god, he does. Blue eyes, long blonde hair, tanned and muscular…and then you have me…sigh.

Matt.

Thursday 19th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

That was the most fun I've ever had, in my whole, entire life. We chatted in the coffee shop until it closed, at 10pm, drinking tea and hot chocolate. I had a chocolate biscuit, he had a cherry muffin. Then, we went out walking. We walked through Soho, past the bookshops, the concert venues, the pubs. Down the river, holding hands. Bloomsbury…have you ever noticed how _romantic_ the British Museum is at night? It's beautiful, but not as much as him. He has bright red hair, and big green eyes, and pale skin covered in freckles. He wears stripy clothes, with jeans and leather boots. He drives an Impala. Good condition, too, for the amount of smoking he does in it. This was the best night of my life. I hope we can do something like this again soon.

Mello.

Thursday 19th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

God, that was the best night of my life. We talked for _four hours_ in the coffee shop, and he had hot chocolates and chocolate biscuits, and I had tea and a cherry muffin. Then, we walked around London, Soho, Burmondsey, Bloomsbury. Have you ever seen the river at night? It's romantic as hell. Almost as pretty as my new _boyfriend,_ Mello. Fuck, he's perfect. Do you know what he wore? I hope he doesn't plan on wearing it every time I see him. He wore a bloody leather vest and tight, lace up leather trousers! With leather boots! _Damn._ When he comes into the sweet shop, he's just wearing concert shirts and jeans, and his hair's just done up in a ratty ponytail! It was all…loose and blowing around his face in the wind tonight. Hot bastard.

Matt.

Friday 20th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

We went out again tonight. He's asleep on the couch. After work, I went to the sweet shop, as usual, but I hung out by the counter waiting for him to be done. So when he was, we just…wandered. We wandered around Soho. We went past The Nose, the book shops, that old fashioned sweet shop that was expensive as hell, a couple sushi bars, some normal bars, all these comic shops…I dragged him into all of them. And that D&D one too, but he dragged me into the CD/record shop opposite…only fair, I suppose. We had dinner at this Thai place, Janetira, and then we went for a SNOG. By which I mean delicious frozen yoghurt. Although….anyway. We've gone back to my place. Ha, he was puffing by the time he got to the top of the stairs! It was cute. We watched a few CSI episodes. New York. Who'da thought it'd be both our favourites, eh? He's crashed on the couch right now, looking like an angel from God, a beautiful, heavenly being sent to guide me back onto the right path. And that's what he is, isn't it? Aww…he's smiling. Wonder what he's dreaming about?  
Mello.

Friday 20th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

I could do anything, die for this man, and I'd do it with a smile on my face, willingly. I'd want to die for him. What happened to him being the cute guy who bought chocolates from me? In less than a week.

Matt.

Saturday 21st June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

I must have fallen asleep next to him, because when I woke up he was staring at me with a confused-amused-lovey face, and I, God this is embarrassing, was hugging him around the waist with my face in his neck. Er…well, moving on. We had breakfast together too. Turns out he's a wizard at frying eggs. And then we went to the cinema and watched The Wind Rises. It was in the Trocadero, so after, we went to the arcade. There was a group of kids there, they were all gathered round an air hockey table. Even their adults were watching. We watched too. My cousin and her friend were playing. Stina won. She smiled at Matt for some reason. When they left, we had a go on it. Apparently her smile was a good luck charm, because Matt won. We went to a pub, The Glasshouse Stores. Bloody good pub too. We saw her again, but she was with her mum and a bunch of geeks. Stop following us, child! Matt ended up sleeping at mine again. It's midnight and I just got out of the shower. He's snoring on my couch, slightly wet from his shower. Damn, it's hot.

Mello.

Saturday 21st June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Mello fell asleep cuddling me. D'aww. We went to see a Japanese film, the eulogy of this animator Mello loves. Hayao Miyakazi or something? It was good! After, we played air hockey, but we had to wait for a heated battle to end between some girl we kept seeing and her, presumably, boyfriend, judging from the way the other kids stared and whispered at them. Although, Mello says he's entirely sure they are not dating and that the girl is most definitely lesbian and the boy is gay, although he didn't say anything more than 'know em'. Helpful, aren't you?

Matt.

Sunday 22nd June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Church was so much less lonely with Matt there. Ah. Let me explain to you, dear diary, my predicament: you see, my church was closed down. So, every Sunday morning I sneak in and play my recordings of Mass, and I play the organ and sing alone…tedious, but necessary. But today, Matt was with me. He didn't know any of the words to the prayers or the hymns, and he doesn't have a rosary, but he was there, so that's what matters. Nobody should have to pray alone.

Mello.

Sunday 22nd June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Mello dragged me along to an abandoned church this morning, at 10am. Past the bookshop, down the street from the concert venue. An abandoned chapel, pews in the front, gates chained and padlocked. We climbed over them and slipped into the church through a gap in the window. Apparently, Mello does this every Sunday. He has a lovely singing voice. It's beautiful. He puts so much heart into it when he plays and sings those songs, like his entire being is resting on him singing them with as much love and strength and hope as he can muster. When we left, he asked if I could do this with him every Sunday. Why not? Nobody should have to pray alone.

Matt.

Monday 23rd June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Work. Solved a few murders and some thefts. Near's still a lil' bitch. Haven't seen Matt, although we've texted.

Mello.

Monday 23rd June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Work. Mello didn't show up. Does he only come on certain days? We texted. He gave me the names of a few bands to try out. Weird names though…The Spill Canvas? Cute Is What We Aim For? Panic! At The Disco? Trading Yesterday? Honestly, I want whatever those guys were on when they came up with the names.

Matt.

Tuesday 24th June, 2014.

Dear Diary,

Shit. Matt's sister died today. I made him a lot of cherry muffins. To try and cheer him up, even if just by a nanometre. Not that it worked.

Mello.

Monday 24th June, 2015.

Dear Diary,

Shit. My sister finally did it, finally got to the end of the three years she had to live. Leukaemia. Like mum. She died at 16:27. God. What am I supposed to do?

Matt.

Tuesday 25th June, 2015.

Dear Diary,

Matt's gone on a holiday for a while. He'll be back soon. Just until he gets over Mia's death. He promised he'd stay in touch.

Mello.

Tuesday 25th June, 2015.

Dear Diary,

I lied. I won't be back soon. I won't stay in touch.

Matt.

Saturday 25th July, 2015.

Dear Diary,

Matt said he'd be in touch. He said he'd be back soon. It's been a_ year_, and I haven't heard anything from him. Not a peep. His facebook page's been quiet, too. I hope nothing's happened to him. Come back soon, Matty, I miss you. I love you. I need you.

Mello.

Saturday 25th July, 2015.

Dear Diary,

"You see, the trick is that you're never supposed to act on it, no matter how unbearable this misery gets." Well…let's see if I can go another day. If I can, I'll see Mels. If I can't…I'm sorry.

Matt.

Sunday 26th July, 2015.

Dear Diary,

"You make it sound so easy to be alive, but tell me, how am I supposed to seize this day when everything inside me has died?" I'm so, so sorry, Matty. I'm going. Away. Forever. I hope you find someone new, someone who won't do this to you. I'm so sorry, Matty. So, so sorry.

Mels.

Sunday 26th July, 2015.

Dear Diary,

"I may look happy, but honestly dear, the only way I'll really smile is if you cut me ear to ear." I'm so, so sorry, Mels. I'm going. Away. Forever. I hope you find someone new, someone who won't do this to you. I'm so sorry, Mels. So, so sorry,

Matty.


End file.
